Well Sam, here’s what I think…
I’ve been getting a lot of responses from you all about Sam’s post. Some of you are mad, some just curious what I make of it all, and one commenter even asked if you really can try too hard in love. I’d say yes to that question, but to the rest of you, let me explain my thoughts.
First of all, Sam’s post was not unsolicited, I wanted to know what he thought the downfall of our relationship was, especially since, as he mentions, he has always pursued me relentlessly as a friend, while also maintaining that he is extremely attracted to me, so I have wondered why we didn’t make it as a couple. That being said, Sam and I do have a complicated relationship, born out of high school feelings of insecurity, loneliness, and some extremely fucked up friends we had in common. The way he knows me is different than the way I actually am today, but there’s something comforting about a person who always sees you as you once were, even if that means seeing you as an insecure high school girl. It’s a reminder of where and who I’ve been. I do feel I’ve changed, I don’t think I try TOO hard anymore, but I do think there is something inherently true about what he’s saying about me. It’s not necessarily that I try too hard to be cool, but I do certainly have a fear of intimacy that makes it hard for me to show vulnerability, which can make it seem like I’m just trying to be cool.
When I was younger, my mom would complain that I was impossible to fight with. We would have screaming matches and by the end she would break down and cry and I would walk away victorious. I could not be cracked. It makes me sound like an asshole, but it’s how I was. Now as an adult, there’s some element of that that remains true. I pride myself on my honesty, but at the same time I have a hard time showing emotion to people I care about. It’s as though my subconscious is telling me that the first person to show emotion is somehow the loser. Even when it’s appropriate, or necessary, to let people know that I like them, want to date them, want them to stick around, it takes all of my effort and energy to say it. But Sam, the difference about me now is that I can say it. I may try too hard to be cool in some situations, but I’m also able to acknowledge that, and at least discuss my fear of intimacy and vulnerability, which I think is a big step forward.
In a way, Sam’s post is comforting to me. If he had said something completely unexpected, something about myself that I had never recognized, I think I would be in big trouble. But what he says is true of our relationship then, and perhaps even our relationship now. But it’s not true of ME now. Not entirely at least. And that’s nice to know.
